I'll Bring You To Life
by Leife
Summary: Lemon - ZxD - Zidane gets bored with routine.


**Welcome to my re-make of my story **"I'll Bring You To Life." **The first version I wrote was incredibly boring to me and I couldn't see myself ever finishing it. So I decided to just toss it in the incinerator and try my hand at something new. Hope you like it and please review. I'm always curious as to what people perceive of other's writing. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy 9 or 'Walking Dead' by Z-Trip feat. Chester Bennington.**

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I'll Bring You To Life

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In the chill of the night///I can feel my heart racing///As I run towards the light///that seems so far away///Wondering forever///In the darkest of shadows///Wondering if I will ever see you again///I'll take your pain///(I'll take your pain)///I'll bring you to life

_The pressure, oh, the delicious pressure. It builds, and builds, and builds, and those moans, those lips, oh gods, those moans, and-_

The euphoric sensations swept away just as easily as they had come. Zidane lay on top of Dagger, sweat rolling in beads across their skin. Her small frame quivered beneath his larger one. Normally when they made love it was pure elation. He worked for the ultimate high, when he knew she was so close to climax, she begged, she bit, she clawed, and she tightened. Her sweet lips pressed themselves all over his face and neck, beseeching him to give her release. Where her touch was rather gentle, yet fierce, his was rough and painfully-yet-deliciously slow. Zidane enjoyed taking his time with her. He got to know every crevice, every depression, and every curve of her body. He knew that if he brushed the back of her neck it would make her gasp. Licking her navel sent her into wild fits that involved her nails making dark red lines down his back. Yes, he knew her well. Very well indeed.

Tonight, however, was abnormal. Perhaps what doused his arousal was her lack of enthusiasm or possibly her slow reaction to his touch. Something or other managed to turn him off completely. Without finishing, he pulled himself from her and rolled to his back. His cock throbbed and ached with the need for release, but he couldn't force himself to finish. The dark room provided no solace.

Minutes that felt like hours passed before either of them spoke. All that could be heard was Dagger's less-than-labored breathing and the clock ticking in the hallway outside of their room. Finally, Dagger summed up enough courage to say, "Zidane, did I do something wrong?"

Silence.

Dagger continued to work on slowing her breath. Zidane hadn't distanced himself away from her. His arm was lying across her bare stomach. She was afraid to move, afraid to speak again. Afraid that Zidane might be swallowed up by the darkness and the silence and all that would be left would be she, the bed, and the ticking of the clock. She couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. In all the time she had known the blonde man he had never kept himself or her from their release. He took things slow because he wanted to make the sensation last as long as he could and he always let her finish first, with his own climax close behind. She wondered what had made him pull out of her and then roll away.

Zidane couldn't stand the thick silence any longer. He removed his arm from Dagger's stomach (much to her chagrin) and slid it under her back, pulling her closely against his side with her head resting on his chest. Her bare thighs entwined themselves around his bare leg. He could feel the dark curls between her legs and the wetness that was slowly beginning to dry. He could also feel the hard nubs of her nipples pressed against his side. All these things normally would have fueled his fire, but he couldn't get rid of the damned empty feeling in his gut.

Then came the tears.

Dagger cried as quietly as she could. She didn't want Zidane to hear; afraid he might be disgusted with her or think her pathetic. She made no sound, like the unforgiving void that swallowed the room and engulfed them in darkness. Her body trembled though and that awoke dormant emotion in Zidane's heart. Furrowing his brows, she gently began hushing her and caressing her, moving his hand from her upper arm, down to her hand, and back up again.

"S'ok, don't cry now, my princess. Oh my baby, don't cry," he whispered in her ear.

Through the noiseless sobs, she managed to speak. "Zidane, what did I do? Tell me what I did. You never stop like that when we make love." She had to stop her words as a voiceless sob wracked her body. The salty tears fell onto Zidane's chest, but he didn't seem to notice or care.

He thought for a long while. He couldn't pin-point why he had stopped. Something about the whole act had soured his lust. Every night she would steal away into his bed, covered in nothing but a thin robe. She smile, her long raven hair falling down her back. She would run her hands against his bare chest and pull at the waistband of his trousers, fumbling with the zipper. He in turn would yank the robe off of her naked shoulders and pull it down just below the curve of her hips. Their kissing was always passionate, always so full of emotion and want and need. Raw tendencies ushering in unstable dominance as Dagger would try to position her on top of him, but he never fancied himself for a dominatrix lover. Instead, he would grab her hips and roll her onto her back, throwing the robe to the floor as he ripped his trousers off and threw it next to her garment. He would begin kissing her inner thigh, moving up slowly (_so slowly_). He always stopped at her belly button, gently tracing his tongue along the outside edge. After a fashion, his next stop was at her breasts. He always took his time at that particular spot, tugging at her nipples, flicking them with his tongue. When her body shook and her legs wrapped themselves around him tighter he would hurry to her lips and capture them with his own. She never knew when he was going to enter her so she was constantly caught up in anticipation. Sometimes he would thrust himself in right away, but other times he would kiss her for a very long time before making his move. He liked to keep her guessing. But when their methods became so routine that he could guess exactly when she would moan and the magnitude of the screams, his passion began to shrivel. It was as if she the light in her eyes began to dull, the beating of her heart lulled, and the passion on her fingertips brought distaste rather than excitement. She was like the walking dead.

_Maybe the thing that's turning me off isn't necessarily her, but maybe it's the routine_, he mused. It was true that they hadn't really experimented beyond finding out what got them off the easiest. They simply found a position and a custom that worked for them and left it at that.

Fire began creeping from his groin to his gut. Dagger was caught unaware as Zidane captured her mouth, tongue sliding easily into her mouth. She moaned into his mouth and pressed into him with all her might, tears long forgotten.

Finally the two lovers pulled away, gasping for air. The darkness ebbed away and the room became his room once again.

"Dagger, climb on top of me."

The raven haired woman was stunned. She knew what Zidane liked just as much as he knew what she liked. However, she knew an order when she heard one and this was one order she wasn't about to deny.

Rising to a sitting position, she mounted Zidane and hovered above him, unsure of her situation. She was caught completely and utterly off guard when Zidane grabbed her hips (_roughly_) and pulled her down on his cock (_hard_). A moan escaped her lips. She rested the palms of her hands on his chest briefly before raising her hips and lowering them, over and over again.

"Zidane, this feels so," (_moan_), "perfect!"

He continued to help bring her up and then down again. The friction really was too much.

He whispered sweet nothings and encouragement into the darkness. "Oh my, oh my baby, I'll bring you to life, my princess, my angel."

_The pressure, oh, the delicious pressure. It builds, and builds, and builds, and those moans, those lips, oh gods, those moans, and-_

Her scream and his release would tug at his mind for the next week to come. He was beginning to know her in a completely different way. Very different indeed.


End file.
